A Worthy Cause
by Ashkimo
Summary: C.4 Up! Artemis Aurum is an unusual but wealthy young woman from the Capitol who discovers a dark family secret and decides to use her wealth to sponsor a tribute that has caught her eye and won a place in her heart ...Please Reveiw
1. A Capitol Morning

The Hunger Games are a _very_ big deal here in the Capitol; they are both a popular source of entertainment and an excuse to display our fabulous wealth. As I child I watched them with both interest and horror, though as I've grown older my fascination with them has slowly waned, until at 17 years of age, I view them with mild indifference.

My parents are obscenely rich, mostly due to my father's position as one of Panem's top surgeons and the fact that as the sole daughter of famous Hunger Games Gamemaker Plato Parnassus, my mother inherited a great deal of wealth from her late parents. Even amongst the Capitol citizens, we are the very best of the best. Our home is an enormous mansion in the coveted suburb of Platinum Ridge, where only the richest are permitted to reside. Even the houses in each District Victor's Village would look shabby and decrepit compared to these palaces.

This is the year of the 74th Annual Hunger Games; the year I will complete my Senior Year at Heavenswood Academy, a very prestigious private school that only the children of the very wealthy attend. I expect to graduate with exceptionally high marks and could probably study anything I please at the University of Panem, though this is not expected of me. Instead, my parents have fond hopes of marrying me off to someone of a suitable social status as soon as I turn 18. This is not the future I had intended for myself, but it is the one that has been chosen for me.

***

I wake up to a beautifully sunny morning on the day of the Reaping. Without even thinking, I press a button on the side of my bed and in moments my maid, an Avox named Lucia, appears to help me begin my day. She walks briskly into the bathroom and with the touch of a few buttons the bathtub is filled with steaming water scented with roses. Within minutes I am neck-deep in the water, enjoying a soothing soak. Eventually, the water becomes tepid, so I drain the bath and wrap myself in two enormous fluffy towels. I wander back into my room to find the bed made and everything tidy; Lucia usually does this first thing in the morning.

I turn and face the mirror, gazing at my reflection – I'm an oddity here, because I don't really look like your typical Capitol citizen. My long, straight hair is its natural colour of blackish-brown which is unusual because so many people colour or restyle their hair. I have smooth, pale skin and grey eyes, my entire body without surgical enhancement or adornment. The only concession I make to Capitol styles is the dark eye makeup I apply with a practised hand, and the shimmering silver jewellery on my wrists, throat and fingers. Slipping into my black silk school dress, I pull on a black leather jacket and black ballet flats, before picking up the designer handbag that serves as a school satchel and walk downstairs into the breakfast room.

Mother is sitting at the head of the table, poring over some gossip rag. Her skin is so highly polished it gleams in the early morning sunlight; this week her eyes are the strangest shade of purple I have ever seen. She peers up at me from her paper and frowns.

"Morning, Artemis. Did you sleep well?" she asks.

"As always, Mother," I mutter, looking down at the cinnamon scrolls on the table instead of at her.

"And how is that lovely young gentleman you went out with the other evening... What was his name? Mars? Jupiter?" she continues, her tone lightening somewhat.

"_Mercury_ was very nice thank-you, but he isn't my type," I reply, my tone an angry hiss, "I'd prefer not to discuss it any further with you."

She's always trying to find me a husband, even though I'm still too young to marry. This last one, Mercury Plantagenet, was nice enough, but also incredibly self-absorbed. It also didn't help that his hair was coloured the exact shade of scarlet that Caesar Flickerman sported during last year's Hunger Games.

"Very well, darling," she says, before smiling coldly, "and are we still determined to look like some drab coalminer's brat from District 12 today?"

"If you're referring to my lack of makeup and physical _mutilation_ in general, then yes Mother, I am," I snarl, before departing the room, a pastry stolen from the table concealed in my hand.

She's right, in a way; I don't look anything like many of the other Capitol citizens, even without the extravagant makeup and extensive surgery. My features very much resemble the female tribute from District 12 about six years ago, Sian Pinewood; she made it to the final 12 during the games, but was killed by a Career tribute. Ever since then, it's been a running joke amongst my family and friends that we must have an ancestor from somewhere in the coal District. I wouldn't be surprised, and I do vaguely remember once seeing a very old, old photograph printed on _paper_ of someone who looks very much like my father, except dressed in old-fashioned clothing, posing with a scrawny, underfed-looking young woman possessing similar features to me. My mother is constantly pressuring me to colour my hair, have my eyes dyed or get some laser tattooing. I do my best to ignore her.

My little sister Athena is already waiting near the front door to go to school; she's very beautiful, my mother's 'little girl'. Even though she's only fourteen, her blonde hair has been artificially lengthened and has silver streaks running through it; she wears coloured contacts to make her grey eyes seem green. Thin, flowing tattoos of flowers and vines circle her wrists and her skin is absolutely flawless. I don't even bother talking to her; she'll just repeat the same sentiments as my mother. Instead, we step outside into the late morning sunshine and into the car waiting for us. Thank goodness that school here in the Capitol does not commence until 1pm, or very many of us would often be late.

As the car rolls smoothly down the driveway, my cellphone beeps with a vid-message from my very best friend, Venus Hathaway. Her voice and image fill the car.

"Artemis, my dear, you'd better not be late for school today! They're showing all of the Reapings today, and you're gonna love it! I caught some of it at home before I left, and there are some great tributes this year; especially this totally gorgeous guy from District One who I'm already _dying_ to sponsor!" she giggles.

The message closes, and I sigh. Ahh yes. Reaping day. Tonight will not be a pleasant evening at my house. Every year just before the Hunger Games, usually on the night of the Reaping, my parents provide myself, my brother Primus and Athena with generous stipends with which to sponsor tributes. Though they would prefer for us to 'back a winner' and donate to a tribute from Districts 1, 2 or 4, we are allowed to sponsor whomever we wish.

My sister and brother love to engage in the heated betting that often accompanies sponsorship ; however I have not spent a single coin of my money since I first began receiving it when was 10. My parents do not like this, as socially powerful families are widely expected to donate to such a 'noble cause'. To be honest, I do not feel like wasting my money on a Career tribute that has so many sponsors she/he hardly needs it and if I backed someone from a poorer District, my money would probably be wasted before the bloodbath was over. Though I have not seen this year's tributes, I expect it to be much of a muchness as it always is.

***


	2. Reaping Day

The car pulls up outside the Academy and Venus literally bounces up to the car before the driver can even open the door. As soon as he does, she shrieks with excitement and practically drags me from the vehicle so fast that I barely grab my school bag before she's dragging me up the white stone stairway into the main school building.

We – or rather she – races down the hallway towards the auditorium to where the Reapings will be shown, with many of our classmates following behind us at a more leisurely pace. Unsurprisingly, Venus has managed to secure us seats in the very front row with two of our other friends, Diana and Persephone. They're your typical Capitol type; artificially coloured hair and eyes with tattooed skin, painted nails and bright clothing. Then again, Venus is like that too, but she's not so garish, with her silvery blonde hair, electric blue eyes and delicate spiralling tattoos that decorate her forehead, temples and cheekbones. I think she's quite pretty, actually.

Eventually, we're all seated and the hubbub subsides; our Headmaster, Doctor Charleston, walks to the podium and makes a very short (and forgettable) speech about the Reaping. The Official Capitol Seal flashes across the screen and there's a short introduction by Claudius Templesmith. After this, the Reapings officially begin.

Districts 1 and 2 provide nothing unusual; brutal Careers battling it out for the chance to be chosen as this year's tributes. Two pathetic looking children who break down and weep are chosen from District 3 and another set of Careers volunteer for District 4. It's not until District 5 that someone interesting is chosen – 16-year old Rouge Hamilton is chosen. She looks sly, intelligent and mysterious; however, the boy is of little note. Most of the other Districts pass by without any real incident, with no volunteers and all of the chosen tributes looking like deer trapped in a spotlight.

Eventually, the Reaping from District 11 is shown. Their escort, Mara Moonbeam draws the female tribute's name with great dramatic effect. Her name is Rue and she's a tiny slip of a thing; just twelve years old with long dark hair and big, sad eyes. She walks to the stage with trembling steps, her family in hysterics somewhere on the sidelines. As she must, Mara calls for volunteers, but nobody is willing to save this girl from what is sure to be an unpleasant fate. It's all made worse when Mara selects the male tribute; a man-mountain named Thresh, who is so tall and broad he might well have been a Career had he volunteered instead of being chosen. When they shake hands, I cannot help but think that this poor little girl has no chance against that massive young man.

Finally, District 12 appears on screen; off all the Districts, it's the shabbiest and most decrepit, even compared to Districts 10 and 11. The slightly disturbing Effie Trinket is brushing off the drunken advances of District 12's only surviving Hunger Games Victor, (Hamish? Haymith?) before stepping daintly up to the glass balls that hold the names of so many children. Reaching her hand in deep, she plucks the name from amongst the masses and reads it in a clear voice – Primrose Everdeen. The cameras scan the crowd and focus on yet another twelve year old girl, this one even more delicate looking than Rue, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Suddenly, a dark-haired creature rushes out from amongst the 16-year olds, runs up to the podium pushes this Primose girl out of the way.

"I volunteer!" she gasps, "I volunteer as tribute!"

The gentle hum of voices that had begun in the auditorium as the Reapings began to finish stops. In my entire memory, there has never been a volunteer from District 12. In fact, I'd bet you'd have to go back over 60 years, maybe more, before you could find someone that had volunteered from the coal district. All eyes are now fixed on the screen as this brave young woman is formally introduced.

Her name is Katniss Everdeen; it turns out that she is Primrose's older sister. When Effie calls to the town to applaud this courageous girl, not one person in the square responds. Slowly, surely, each one of them then lifts the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then reaches out to her. It is an odd gesture, but she seems touched by it even though her face remains impassive. Then, Effie selects the final tribute for this year's Games; a boy named Peeta Mellark, who seems just as stunned as all of the other tributes. They shake hands, and the Anthem of Panem is played, before the Capitol seal flashes across the screen once again.

Oddly, the auditorium is still silent as we file out. There will be no afternoon classes today; everyone will probably go home and start gossiping about who they plan to sponsor this year. I begin to walk out to the front driveway where I'm sure the car will be waiting when Venus bounces up beside me, chattering on about Marvel from District 1, and Cato from District 2.

"Marvel is better looking but I don't know, Cato seems stronger somehow," she says, though I'm hardly listening to her. Instead, I am thinking about the tributes from District 5, 11 and 12. Or rather, 11 and 12, because the girl from 5, whilst intelligent looking, was nowhere near as memorable. Our driver, Otis, opens the car door and I slip inside. Athena is already in there, waiting for me. She too is yammering on about this tribute or that. Apparently, the girl from District 1 is her pick for this year, Glitter or Glamour or something.

I stare out the window at the manicured gardens and lush landscapes that edge the roadway. I'm adding up all of the sponsorship money my parents have given me in the past, plus what I'll get from them this year. It's quite a lot; more than enough to feed half of District 12 for decades, I would think. ..


	3. Fight Night

Dinner this evening was a disastrous affair, as usual. For once, Father was home from the hospital and Mother had ordered an overly extravagant meal to both please him and celebrate the official beginning of the Hunger Games season.

"So, Primus my boy, how was class today," my father begins. Primus is his favourite, of course - he's the oldest, he's male and he too is studying medicine at the University of Panem.

"Well, Father, there were classes mid-morning, as usual, but after that, the main focus of the day was the Reapings, as you well know," he replies smartly.

"Yes, yes. I remember Reaping Days from way back when I studied there," Father continues jovially, before looking over at Athena, "And tell me, little princess, who do you plan to sponsor this year?"

"Well, Papa," she whispers demurely, "I'm waiting to see the interviews and training scores, but I really like the look of the girl from District 1. Her name is Glimmer and she looks strong. I definitely think she has a chance of winning."

"She sounds like an excellent choice darling," he replies, "Primus, who are you looking at this time around?"

"It's difficult for me to say just yet. Most likely, I'll choose either Marvel from District 1 or Cato from District 2, but there _was_ the guy from District 11, Thresh; he's bigger than both of them, built like a tank and very powerful looking," Primus returns.

"Well then son, I'll leave the choice up to you, as always, but you know how much I like you to pick a winner. This Thresh character sounds all well and good, but he does come from District 11, I warn you."

"And what about you, _Artemis_," my mother starts in, though she's remained silent for most of the conversation, "are you planning on sponsoring anyone this year, or are you just going to let the money go to waste in the bank like you always do?"

"Actually, _Mother_," I begin, "I was thinking I might sponsor someone this year. I'm assuming you've watched the Reapings, and I was considering donating to either Rue from District 11, or that Katniss girl from District 12. I haven't decided if it is worth it yet, but I might just do it."

A look of horror flashes across my mother's face; my father drops his fork and it clatters loudly on the fine china plate.

"Surely you won't waste your money on _those_ tributes," Father grumbles, "if you're going to use all that money you've saved, why would you _waste_ it on District 11 or 12?"

"I hardly believe you're going to _actually_ sponsor someone at all," snipes Mother.

"She won't, Mother," says Primus calmly, "she never does and she never will."

Only Athena looks quiet and thoughtful.

"Rue... Rue. Yes I remember her reaping. You know, Minerva mentioned that her older sister, Nyx, was planning on sponsoring that little girl. She said that she felt sorry for her... Maybe you should talk to her? I can give you their vidphone number?," she says quietly.

My parents look even more appalled, and I decide that this would be a good time for me to leave.

"Thanks, Athena. Maybe later." I say, before getting up from the table, "Dinner was _great_ as usual, Mother."

I stalk out of the room, and although my father makes a noise as if to protest, the normal dinnertime conversation resumes before I am even halfway down the hall.


	4. The Family Secret

I slam my bedroom door so loudly that the windows rattle and one of them even cracks; this will annoy both mother and a father, a thought that makes me smile.

Flicking on the wallscreen, I tune into a recap of the reapings just in time to re-watch tiny Rue tremble as she slowly walks up the reaping stage, to be followed by Thresh, the human mountain. It is then that the sooty, crumbling buildings of District 12 flash up on the screen, and the vacuous Effie Trinket calls the name 'Primrose Everdeen' with great relish. As the crowd parts to allow the tiny Primrose access to the stage, her fierce, dark-haired sister leaps in front of her and volunteers to take her place.

Looking at this Katniss girl, I can already tell that she's not as underfed as the previous tributes of District 12. Although she's thin, she's quite wiry and muscular, with a good complexion and captivating grey eyes. She'd never pass as beautiful here in the Capitol, but there's something about her that makes me want to watch her closely.

Out of curiosity, I switch the wallscreen to NetMode and link up to PanemPedia; Panem's complete online guide to almost everything since its creation, although it does gloss over the Dark Days quite a lot. I slowly type in Katniss' name and sure enough, a page on her has already been created, although all it states is that she is the female District 12 tribute for the 74th Annual Hunger Games and that the odds of her winning currently sit at 8-1, which are actually quite good, as this means that the bookkeepers believe that based on initial appearance alone, only eight of the other tributes look stronger than she does.

After a little more searching, I find the page for Sian Pinewood and her old Games head shot, complete with district number fills the wall. I read about her – how she was the daughter of a prominent Peacekeeper, that she had two older sisters and a younger brother, that she achieved a training score of 7 and was killed by Silver Prada from District 1 by asphyxiation. It is while I am reading about Sian that old memories float through my head.

"_I say mother, there is quite the resemblance between our Artemis and that brat from District 12, don't you think?"_

"_It's not surprising that you look like some coalminer's offspring, darling with that pale skin and uncoloured hair– if only you would just colour your hair..."_

"_Hey Ari – have you noticed how much the girl tribute from District 12 looks like you? It's creeeeee-pyyyy, I'll say."_

"_Artemis, as your father, it is for your own good and because I care about you that I've had your mother book you in at the Salon to have your hair coloured. After this year's Games are over, or even as soon as that brat from District 12 is dead, you can go back to whatever style you please. It just doesn't do to have people creating some absurd resemblance where it can't clearly exist. It's damaging to the family name and I will not have us lumped in with some coalminer's filthy bastard."_

Curiosity makes me enter my father's name into the search bar. His page soon flashes up, with a stern photo of him taken outside the University of Panem in the top right hand corner and a whole page detailing his wealth, achievements and our private life. I click on my grandfather's name and so appears another page lauding the wealth and achievements of the Aurum family ; I follow this with my great-grandfather and it is here that I find something worth looking at. My great-grandfather was also a surgeon, who patented the technique for the permanent dyeing of hair and eye colours without damage to the subject or their person. Though he died before the Dark Days, I knew this already; however it is the photo displayed of him from his younger years that makes this information about him stand out with his dark hair, olive skin and grey eyes. My great-grandfather looks a great deal like me, and also quite a lot like many other citizens of Panem who don't live in the Capitol.

Almost frantic now, I try to go as far back into my family as I can, until I get as far back as 40 years prior to the Dark Days but no further. The last name I encounter is that of Odysseus Aurum, my great-great-grandfather, so I open PanemSearch and enter that name in, and after almost an hour of mindless searching, I discover an old family tree that actually stops with Zeus Aurum, my grandfather and goes back so many generations that I discover my great-great-great-and-so-on grandparents were called Jet and Lulu Statten and they lived in some strange place called New York City.

After doing some not-so-simple math calculations based on the birth and death dates of these long-dead relatives, I realise that my great-great-great-great-great grandparents, Tulip and Orion Aurum, or their son Plato Aurum and his wife Daisy were perhaps amongst the very first citizens of Panem. First, I enter Tulip and Orion into PanemSearch and discover that although the United States of America had begun to crumble when they were married, it wasn't until after their death that it became Panem.

So begins my search for Plato, and I discover that he was a doctor back in the United States of America and was offered the opportunity to be amongst the very first citizens of the Capitol due to the many accolades he had won throughout his medical education. However, although he made his home in the Capitol, it became his job to travel throughout the newly-formed districts and provide their apothecaries and healers with the most basic knowledge on how to save the sick, wounded and dying people who had suffered as the United States crumbled. Using rudimentary instruments and with limited time, he would pass on knowledge to those who would learn and move on to the next District. It turns out that when Plato reached District 12, he was training a woman named Leevy Pinewood to save lives when he met her daughter Daisy and fell in love with her. Back then, there were far less stringent restrictions on District citizens being admitted to the Capitol, and when he left District 12, he brought Daisy with him. It's not long before I discover that the old, crumpled paper photograph I found years ago is of Daisy and Plato on their wedding day.

It is only after this triumphant discovery that I realise that it is 5am and that I have spent nearly all night in search of a powerful truth; that somewhere deep in my veins, the blood of an emaciated coalminer's daughter flows. I have ties to District 12.


End file.
